Reviews

The Last Hiccup by Christopher Meades

buoymehome's review against another edition

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1.0

Pile poil le bouquin qui part d'une excellente idée et qui se plante dans tous les sens. Heureusement, la prose est belle. Mais c'est tout.
L'histoire se déroule en 1929 et 1940, en Russie. Soviétique la Russie, rappelons le.
Apparement c'est une Russie soviétique un peu fantasmée parce que bon, les gens ont faim, mais c'est pas la famine, les paysans ont des fermes privées, il y a certes des références aux évènements qui se deroulent en Russie et dans le monde, avec des caméos de l'armée rouge, mais bon, de façon generale, les temps sont durs, mais rien qui fonctionne vraiment si tu as appris ton histoire et déjà lu de la litterature qui se déroule dans ces années là.
Et la fin est ridicule à mon sens.
Enfin bref. Deux bouquins in a row qui me déçoivent. Pourtant la couverture était vachement chouette (et le resumé intriguant). Comme quoi, la communication ...

eetoffel's review against another edition

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2.0

The main reason I didn't like this book (I didn't even completely finish it) is because it isn't a style that I enjoy, but I do see how it would be an interesting read for others. The Last Hiccup employs a darkly comedic voice to tell the story of Vladmir who has a case of sustained hiccups and is given over to the care of two doctors to cure him (to no avail). Could have been an interesting concept, it just didn't sustain my interest.

clickanjana's review against another edition

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4.0

A bit disturbing story. But once I started, I just couldn't stop. There is something about this book which I can't quite place with words!

the_original_shelf_monkey's review

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5.0

I come here to praise Chris, not to fear him. I was a fan of his debut novel The Three Fates of Henrik Nordmark, an unceasingly silly chase novel that gave me no end of pleasure. So when approached, I gladly agreed to blurb his novel (a professional first!), for his sophomore effort The Last Hiccup is everything I look for in a novel; funny, weird, vaguely historical, barely linear, ambiguous, and saturated with synchronous diaphragmatic flutter. Having suffered from a lengthy bout of the devil's esophageal convulsions myself (seven days, no fooling), perhaps I'm inclined to sympathize with Vladimir, the young Russian boy who starts hiccuping at age eight and continues to do so for decades.

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